The Fundamentalist Inside Me.



The fundamentalist in my head – that little part of me – that ‘thing’ so wretched and vile, so unmerciful and braggadocious, has been whispering to me all day.
In that corner of my consciousness. In the back where I keep the memories of the past so malignant like cancer, that stinks like spoiled meat, has been echoing its angry voice through my head all day.
I see in my head truth becoming a lie. Facts have become fiction. Climate change is ignored for coal production and more fossil fuel extraction.
I see in my head the rise of authoritarianism. Conway is calling the media the ‘instigators’ of trouble – when her boss is the ultimate trouble maker. For having whipped a country into a feeding frenzy with the wretchedness of his speech.
Although, I see compassion blazing white hot. When a Mosque was burnt to the ground due to the encouragement by the sitting president to mistreat foreigners and strangers – Jews, the people Christ first went to, the most persecuted people in history, hand over the keys of their synagogue for their distant cousins to worship. And when I see people march for their rights, for their futures, and for their posterity – it is met with scorn and ridicule from a populace that’s been encouraged to bear its teeth.
I see the rise of white supremacy. “Go back home,” “We don’t want your kind here.” “Speak English.” “Build a wall.” “Turn refugees back.” “Make America Great Again.”
I see the rise of fascism. “The newsmen are all liars.” Denial of Russian Involvement in this election. Denial of the popular vote. The rising up of power hungry preachers into key positions in government ‘to investigate’ higher learning. The placement of a woman to teach children ‘creationism’ in place of good, solid, fact-based science. Someone who will eradicate history. The great agitators who speak of Christ out of one side of their mouth yet starve men in the streets, cut off workers compensation, make health care less affordable, while living in palatial splendor. Those who castigated the Popes of old and called the church “The Great Whore’ while wearing thigh high boots on television with their 1-800 numbers convincing old women to endorse their social security checks to them. Men, more in love with power than the God they pretend to serve.
While that Pope, seemingly powerless, begs the world not to head into the direction it is heading. While he tries – maybe in vain – to steer the world back from the brink by reminding them of supremacy’s failed history. While he tries to hold back the flood.
I see a nation teetering on the edge of oblivion. While the world shudders in horror and absolute fear. I sense a war on the horizon. The drums beating down from inside the bowels of the earth. Perhaps The Church was His church after all.
No, that little troll isn’t warning me. He’s celebrating. He’s basking in the glow of what he sees as this ‘world’s’ comeuppance. He is the one so filled with rage and contempt for the world that didn’t lock step into what he thought it should be. They didn’t believe exactly how he believed. He who thinks himself superior to all others. He who thinks he is saved of the saved and everyone else is damned. This is the voice of radical. This is the voice of a hatemonger. This is a fearful and loathsome creature who can never ever be satisfied.
And no – Donald Trump is not the Antichrist. No. To Republicans and their voters – he is revenge. He is justice. He is law and order. He is no longer having to bite their tongue when someone whom they consider lesser demands equality. He is no longer having to bite their tongue when cruelty and malice rage forth like bile. That turn a blind eye when they see someone on the street hungry and abandoned. When they blame the woman alone for becoming pregnant. When they call a soldier a hero but the veteran a drag on society. No, Donald Trump is their hero.
To us -who know better – He is the Beast.
We’re gonna need a bigger boat.

Learning to be grateful ( Under construction)

I have so much to be thankful for. It’s so hard when you hear some shady shit not to react. So today, I’m just gonna sit in this space where I know what’s really going on. Sorry but some of this may be NSFW.

I can write my ass off. I know that sounds self-aggrandizing – but I am good at what I do. Whether or not that shit sells is irrelevant. My reviews speak for themselves .
I am healthy- I quit smoking, I work out every day. I do yoga and try and clear my head and find my center. And I find it. And I lose it. And I find it again.
I’ve been working on myself – introspection has brought forth a lot of breakthroughs that has lead to some hurt but also a lot of healing as well.
I have a few close friends- a tight group of people I associate with. Mass groups of people and being in large groups don’t make me feel popular. It makes me feel like I am strapped to an atomic bomb that’s waiting to go off. Too much anxiety.
I am not perfect – I fuck up sometimes. I say some stupid stuff sometimes that I don’t mean in the heat of the moment. But I embrace my mistakes and own them. So trying to hang shit over my head is sort of worthless. I’ve implemented parts of a 12 step Alcoholics Anonymous program for sanity’s sake. I come from a world of secrets and secrets when they get too deep eat away at you like cancer.
I have an amazing husband. A great marriage. We work hard on making each other happy. And like Beyonce says, “When he fucks me good I take his ass to Red Lobster.” I get that statement 100 percent. I’ve known a lot of gay relationships that don’t make it because of outside influences and pressure and I can’t guarantee 100 percent that we will – but if there is one attribute I have is bullheadedness. I take my vows extremely serious.
There are times I’ve been a misogynist, a bigot, a racist, or how about worse- a homophobe. But there are times everyone has. I’m not afraid to own that. But the difference is I have a constant dialogue going on in my head trying to fix these things that I find errant. Just because I have this conversation going on here – on occasion – don’t mean that chapter has been closed and that book written. Can you say the same? It’s called change. You should probably look that up.
I am both arrogant and humble. Sinner and Saint. An educated fool. There is a paradox of life that I’ve embraced and I’m cool with that and recognize I’ve no more ‘arrived’ than anyone else and understand that everything I am can be taken in an instant. That’s just life. And I’ve had the rug ripped out from underneath me on several occasions. That shit will keep you humble.
And just like every other time in my life – I’ve learned to be thankful for it. That’s the hard part. Finding moments like that – even when everything is fifty shades of black – something to be grateful for. And what I am MOST grateful for is those who’ve stuck it out with me over the course of these couple of years of writing. That means the world to me.
I am grateful to my friends – my loyal readers (all seven of you), my life.
But if I’ve offended anyone in the past. Let me take a second and apologize for you that I am a work in progress and I am always trying to better myself.
But as far as I am concerned, that’s over with. It’s time to move on. I am all about love these days. That’s the only way to fix anything. But when the sun sets, even if I were to lose everything, I got me. I got this. Because I am me. And what is that? A powerful, intelligent, passionate gay man who’s navigated this world with as much grace and dignity as I could. I am myself. In the end, that’s good enough for me.


Feelin’ this pretty hard today.

Listen to the song he sings…(Poem)

Don’t listen to the words of man
listen to the song he sings
above his head, from in his heart
listen to the gentle breeze


sunlight drifts between the leaves
dappled rays of golden light
darkness comes a shivering wind
leaving mans soul a wandering blight


Listen above the rising din
above the static charge
listen above the rumbling thunder
above the river run red with blood
dancing there among the stars

A song so sweet that heaven bends
its ear toward the earth
to hear the beating in his ribs
the muscle of his heart


Its constant as chaos rises
when chaos dances without a cause
thump, thump, thump it goes
nary a second in a pause

In that beat is the truth
far truer than any creed or belief
that life is better yet lived
free from bitter grief

Man has the answer cast in flesh
the air within his lungs
his soul cast into his mortal frame
truer now than when life begun

Don’t listen to the words of man
listen only to the song he sings
deep inside the cage of bone
this constant steady thing


hear that?
its life

Its truth…